


It´s Alright

by nekobasu



Category: The Bright Sessions (Podcast)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cause i cant write anything else, Crack Treated Seriously, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everybody hurts basically, F/M, Families of Choice, Hurt Chloe, Hurt Damien, Hurt Mark, Hurt Sam, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Probably ooc, at some point
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-27 02:09:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20940551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekobasu/pseuds/nekobasu
Summary: “Are you done?”“Chloe? What the f-”“I think that’s enough cursing for now, save some for after you get here.”Mark ran a hand on his face, trying to get rid of the last traces of sleep that still clung to him, and got up from the couch.“Get where? What’s going on? Are you okay?”“Come to my house, as fast as you can. I’m okay but… Please come see for yourself. I think you’ll only believe it when you see it.”





	1. Just a human

**Author's Note:**

> Title and chapter titles from It's Alright by Mother Mother 
> 
> Soooooooo I haven't even begun writing the next chapter for my other Damien fic... But this bad boy was fighting its way out and I had to relent.  
Don't know where this is going, really ( ゜▽゜;)

Mark should have seen this coming. It had been a few weeks since his last panic attack, a few days since his last fight with Sam and a whole month since he last had had a drink. Of course, the universe could only leave him alone for so long. It all started, as the worst things do, with a call. 

He had answered his phone at ass o’clock in the morning, not even bothering to know the offender’s name before calling out all the ugly names he knew. And then the person on the other side responded.

“Are you done?”

“Chloe? What the f-”

“I think that’s enough cursing for now, save some for after you get here.”

Mark ran a hand on his face, rubbing his eyes trying to get rid of the last traces of sleep that still clung to him, and got up from the couch.

“Get where? What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Come to my house, as fast as you can. I’m okay but… Please come see for yourself. I think you’ll only believe it when you see it.”

Well didn’t that make it even more appealing? It was all Joan’s fault, probably, all these teenagers suddenly turning to him for help (or coffee, or going shopping, or _whatever_) when all he wanted was to be left alone. _You need to socialize, Mark,_ she would say, _and the cashier at the liquor store doesn’t count. _He didn´t think a bunch of psychologically unstable superpowered kids were that much of an upgrade. Maybe he was exaggerating while calling them infants, but really, if you considered the age of his soul with theirs they would be mere fetuses. 

“Okay okay, I’m going… Is Sam with you?”

That was another point. He hadn’t seen Sam since their last fight. She hadn’t _gone_, she just walked out on him. That should be a relief since she hadn’t gotten herself worked up enough to spend however long stuck in whenever, but somehow this felt worse. Sam had just screamed at him and left. She left, leaving the door open, which surprisingly had a bigger sense of finality than it would have had she slammed it. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to face her right now.

“No, no she… She was staying with me but… Just now, she _went._ Mark just- just get here.”

* * *

Mark didn’t remember how he got to the Turner’s house. It only took a few minutes since the roads were predictably clear at four in the morning, but he wouldn’t have been able to tell. He was too worried. About where, or when, Sam was, about what could possibly make Chloe call him so late it was early, about what he would find once he finally got there.

He would never have guessed what really waited for him beyond the door.

What Mark first noticed was the pull – the one he always felt while around other atypicals, the one he knew would allow him to copy, borrow or steal someone else’s ability, depending on how hard he pulled back. That irritating poke on his mind that simultaneously compelled and was compelled- he could never explain it quite right, even to himself. Chloe’s was easy to avoid, brushing it off with a mental flap, but the other one took him by surprise. He hadn´t meant to respond to the pull but barely caught himself doing it anyway.

Then, he felt the _want_. That familiar ability he had hoped to not ever be targeted by again. Or the vessel of. But it was different, somehow. It seemed… It seemed to be _confused_, as if it couldn't latch on to anything. Less polished. It was all over the place, really. He could feel Chloe’s mother’s will, upstairs, gently nudging her dreams in a pleasant direction; he could feel Chloe just wanting it all to be over, an easy way out, which conflicted with her innate want to help. He could also feel the kid. There was a kid sitting on the ground, his back against the arm of the living room couch, and he wanted his parents... But not. He wanted to get out of this house and go home, but he didn't seem quite sure about that either.

Mark felt all that as if it was his own, all at the same time, and had to put a hand on the wall not to fall down from the backlash of pushing the ability out of his mind. He was nauseous and breathing heavily from just a glimpse of it, and found himself staring at the kid. It was his ability, that much was obvious, but how could he just sit there, glaring at both adults but otherwise steady-ish, while feeling all that? 

“Chole… Who’s this? What’s going on?”

““This” can hear you and answer for himself. My name is Twilight Sparkle and I want to be taken home.” 

His head was still spinning. It seemed that the kid voicing his wishes only made the pull stronger and it was hurting his head.

“Thank you, Robert, that was very helpful. This is the friend I told you would be coming to help us, Mark.”

“I don't _care_ who he is, I didn’t ask. I want to go home. Take me home." he looked around, increasingly distressed as no one moved "Why are you not taking me home? Are you a freak like her?” the kid pointed at Chloe with his thumb, clicking his tongue before getting up from the floor and cleaning the back of his pants. “My powers aren’t working on you. I… don’t feel good.”

“I- What did you say?”

The kid now looked anxious, gripping the hem of his shirt with both hands, fists tightening and relaxing while his eyes ran from the adults to the main door and back. He looked like a cornered animal, afraid for his life and ready to make a run for it.

“I don’t feel good! Since you got here, I got all jammed up and weird and I don’t know what’s going on! You won’t do what I want I don’t understand I- I cant breathe!”

It was as if Mark´s body moved on its own. One moment he was staring helplessly at the boy, throat closed with screams he refused to voice, and the next he was kneeling beside him on the floor and rocking him slightly on his arms. The kid was so _small_. He couldn’t be older than fourteen, all long limbs, skin and bones, and was suffering a full-fledged panic attack. One that was completely Mark’s fault.

_I don't feel good_, he had said.

_I don't feel good I don't feel good I don't feel good I don't feel good I don't feel goodIdon'tfeelgood-_

He was taken out of that spiral by Chole’s hand, which held him firmly on the shoulder like a lifeline. Mark raised his eyes to hers and in them he saw sadness, anger that mirrored his own. He saw confirmation he didn’t need to assert what he already feared, but the girl offered no explanations. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, seemingly not knowing how to voice her thoughts. But Mark already knew.

This kid, this _boy _who was shaking on his lap while gasping for air and gripping his shirt, absolutely terrified and not seeming to recognize either of them nor his surroundings, was Damien Gorham.


	2. I Had a Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL WELL WELL IF IT ISN'T ME WHO HAS NO SELF CONTROL WHATSOEVER
> 
> My friend told me I should write what I want to write about. I wanted to write this, so I did.  
I think it worked out fine... See for yourselves (๑•﹏•)⋆* ⁑⋆*
> 
> Btw I decided to take down the Rape-noncon warning, as I have decided more or less where I want this to go and it's not there.  
Also please don't raise any expectations for fast updates, this story-coming-smoothly thing was a really strange thing for me and I don't know if it's going to happen again.  
ALSO I took some liberties with Mark's ability. In this, he has control over taking someone's ability or not. And he mostly prefers not to. That's why he can't hear Chloe's thoughts; he doesn't want to (I don't want him to).

Mark held the mug with both hands. His tea was still steaming, as he and Chloe had sat at the kitchen table for only a few minutes, facing each other but not knowing what to say. The uncomfortable silence was broken solely by Dam- _Robert’s_ quiet breaths as he slept on the couch.

It was really hard to wrap his head around the fact that that _was _Damien, just a few feet from them and in deep slumber despite the tear tracks still marring his face, but at the same time it _wasn’t. _Now that he knew for sure, he could see it; he could see where his jaw would become more defined and locked with frustration, where his shoulders would become broader but would curl inwards with all the weight resting on top of them.

This was Damien.

But it wasn’t.

Not yet.

“How did this happen?” Mark asked, his voice rasping against the silence as a bare whisper.

Chloe sighed and ran a hand through her hair. Just now he was noticing the exhaustion clear on the girl’s face, almost as deep as his own.

“Joan’s been seeing this new atypical, Hannah, I think she’s eighteen. The girl’s ability apparently had manifested as a food thing. She could make things get fresher by touching them. A rotten apple became as ripe as when it fell off its tree, spoiled milk would become good to drink again.

“It was after their session, Joan asked me to spend some time with her as she didn’t seem to have any friends- by the way, that’s a strange trace that many atypicals seem to have. Well anyway, we went to this Cafe downtown and… Damien was there.

“I don’t know what he was doing there, but I freaked. All I could see was him trying to take Adam away, Caleb beating him to a pulp, everybody freaking out… I know I was the one who spoke to him after that whole ordeal, but I was stressed because of Sam disappearing on me without explaining anything, and the boys are fighting _again_ and I feel like everyone is relying on me- He saw me. He came up to me, I don’t know what for, I just- He was so close and I knew he couldn't _make_ me do anything, but I didn’t know if his ability had come back at all or if he would mess with Hannah and _hit my head with a lamp again _and I-”

Mark reached a hand across the table and took Chloe’s, squeezing it slightly and taking her off that rumbling.

“Chloe, hey, breathe. In and out. Tell me what happened next.”

She did, and not sounding any less distressed. He had a hunch about where this was going.

“Okay. Okay. I yelled at him to get away, to not touch me or her, and the other people there naturally started looking. It wasn’t crowded, not like everyone goes for coffee late at night, but maybe five, six people? I think he knew the kind of mess he would be getting into if he didn’t leave if his expression was any indication, but he took a step in our direction and I… I stumbled back and on to Hannah.

“She lost her balance… Look, Mark, she was almost as nervous as me, even if she didn’t understand exactly what the danger was. She was just thinking that she wanted him to leave, she wanted him gone and away from her and she was so _scared_. Apparently, her situation at home isn’t the best and strange, scary, bigger men approaching her was a trigger. Not that Damien’s scary but _I_ was scared, and I was supposedly the grownup, so _she _was scared-”

Mark was about to, again, remind her to focus on her breathing, but she beat him to it.

“Sorry! I just- she pushed him, okay?! She both-hands-on-the-chest pushed him away and Damien got this really strange look on his face. Like he was nauseous. He scrambled away from the Cafe as Hannah said _I think I did something to him_.”

Mark took a moment to absorb all that. What was Damien doing there? Last they’d known, he was two towns over. But that was months ago… Why had he returned? Maybe he did get his powers back and came for revenge, to make their lives a living hell again. Or that wasn't it at all. There was no way of knowing.

“And how… How did he get here, to your house?”

“I know I know… You think I shouldn’t, but what other choice did I have? I couldn’t in good conscious just leave, you know? I needed to know if he was okay. I sent Hannah home in a cab and started looking on the streets... There was this kid, in an alleyway a few blocks over, dressed in a disgustingly familiar ill-fitting jacket and pants that went over his feet. And… Mark, I could hear his thoughts.”

“You what?!”

“I mean, kinda! Not fully like I can most people, but… It was _there_. His mind. Damien used to feel like a cold wall, like- like I couldn’t see the edge not upwards nor on either side, and I also couldn’t touch. It was… repellant. But now… Now it’s like there’s a door. One that’s ajar.

“It reminded me of when I was starting to nurture my ability with Joan, just hearing base thoughts and nothing concrete to tie them to. Damien… He was terrified. He didn’t understand what was happening and he sounded so… _young_.

They stayed quiet for another few moments.

That girl had literally de-aged Damien. God, it sounded like a bad movie summary. What could they do? How could they fix it? Maybe if Hannah-

“She can’t turn things back to their original state, Mark. Or at least she never tried to, I don´t think she has ever even thought about it. We could ask her to, but…" Chloe took a deep breath before looking Mark straight in the eyes. "What if this is his shot? What if this is his shot at being a better person, leading a better life? Maybe the things that made him _Damien_ haven’t happened yet, Mark.”

“You can’t be sure-”

“He introduced himself as Robert! After I got him to calm down and explained why I wasn't doing what he wanted me to do, he told me his name. His _actual _name. Do you remember how much he _despised_ that name?”

“Even so, Chloe, what if he’s lying? What if- what if he comes back? He’s stronger now than he ever was and has half as much control. I know you could feel it too. He’s all over the place and he’s dangerous, even more unpredictable.”

“Have you ever considered that the reason he ever got the way he did is that there was no one there for him when he was like this?! Mark, his parents left him when he was thirteen! He was all alone and had to take care of himself before even hitting puberty. With an ability like that, and no guidance whatsoever…”

Mark sighed hard, getting up and tipping his mug over the sink to get rid of his cold tea. He moved to wash it, shoving an unnecessary amount of dish soap into the sponge. It was in no way an excuse to stay with his back to Chloe so she couldn’t see his face. Okay, it was. She could read his thoughts, yeah, but he’d give himself this small solace.

“I’m not saying we should leave him to fend for himself on the streets, I just think we should be cautious.”

“Tell that to your head. I more than anyone understand the existence of non-intentional thoughts, but you were thinking it would be better if I left him in that alley. That’s… I know how much he hurt you, Mark, I _do._ But this is not the Damien that put you in that car and manipulated you for months. That was a disturbed, sick man. 

“This- This is _Robert, _a kid who’s been left all alone and doesn’t really get how the world works, only that it has not been kind to him. He’s scared but he can’t trust anyone because of how his ability works, and I’m not even sure if he is aware of that yet. Mark, can you think of _anyone_ who could help him, beside us?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. But I won’t force you to do this. If you want nothing to do with him, I won’t hold you to it. You can walk away and forget you ever saw him, and live your life knowing Damien won’t be a problem ever again. But I will help him, Mark, or at least I will honest to God try. Because I think this kid deserves a chance.”

The man took another deep breath and set the mug aside.

“That’s great, Chloe, but where will he stay? He can’t be here with your mom, she’s not immune. Anywhere he is, he is endangering the people around him.”

“Not _anywhere._”

No.

“But Mark-”

“Absolutely not, Chloe. He will not stay at my place.”

“Just for a few days! I found a place near campus that could easily fit both of us, but I’m only supposed to move there next week. He’s a nice kid… After you get through the don’t-touch-me-trash-you’re-beneath-me layer.”

Mark turned around, unconsciously trying for a better view of the kid.

He was more on the small side, Mark had already figured that out, but looked impossibly smaller while curled up on the sofa. He was hugging his knees, face scrunched up with a frown and eyes moving behind closed eyelids. It was a scene Mark was uncomfortably familiar with, after staying in the same room as the “older version” for so long.

“I’ll think about it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do love finishing chapters without finishing them, don't I?  
Please tell me what you think of it until now! What do you think will happen?  
Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> And that was that ( ﾟ▽ﾟ)/  
Please tell me if you would like to read more of this! Or if you have any comments at all, they are really welcome!  
Also, English is not my first language so any help with grammar and collocation is appreciated.  
Thank you for reading


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